


Duck, Duck, Goose

by MagnetoTheMagnificent



Series: Snektember 2020 [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1940s, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ducks, Geese, Historical References, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Other, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Wartime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetoTheMagnificent/pseuds/MagnetoTheMagnificent
Summary: Crowley finds himself in a less-than-ideal situation involving some angry waterfowl.Written for @puppy-bums 's Snektember prompt on Tumblr
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Snektember 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912714
Kudos: 34





	Duck, Duck, Goose

Aziraphale was relaxing in St. James park, waiting for Crowley to arrive for their meeting. They hadn't spoken in some time, and with the war going on, they really had a lot to talk about. He checked his pocket watch. Crowley was late, which was highly unusual. 

Suddenly, he heard the sound of very loud quacking and turned to see a crowd of ducks and geese in a frenzy. He supposed someone was feeding them, but then there were no people around. Curious, he approached the commotion to see what had gotten the birds so worked up.  
As he looked closer, he could see that they were attacking and trampling something. When he saw a flash of red, his heart sinking with horrified realization. 

"Shoo! Off with you!" he shouted, chasing the aggressive waterfowl away. 

The birds honked angrily at him, but finally retreated into the water, leaving their mangled victim behind. 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale cried, kneeling by the bloodied snake.

The snake lifted his head wearily.

"Hi, angel," he croaked painfully. 

"Don't speak, dear boy, I'm going to get you home," Aziraphale told him, carefully picking him up and wrapping him in his coat. 

At that point, a small crowd had formed, first drawn by the loud ducks, but now far more interested in the strange gentleman talking to a possibly dead snake. 

"You should really take better care of your pets so they don't escape and get into trouble," one woman chided Aziraphale, wagging her finger at him. 

"I'll, uh, keep that in mind, madam," Aziraphale assured her as he walked away from the scene. 

"Pet?!" Crowley hissed indignantly when Aziraphale laid him down in the bookshop. 

"Would you rather I corrected her and said, 'oh no, kind lady, this is my dearest friend whom I've known for nearly six thousand years'?" Aziraphale asked sarcastically as he took out his medical supplies. 

"I s'ppose not," Crowley mumbled. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. 

"Hold still, darling, this might sting," he warned him, dabbing at his wounds with an antiseptic solution.

Crowley instinctively rattled his tail.*

"You're killing me, angel," he pouted.

"Actually, dear, those _ducks_ were killing you," Aziraphale said primly, holding his friend down while he bandaged the bite marks. 

“Blessed birds. After all I’ve done for them,” Crowley muttered. 

Aziraphale frowned sympathetically.

“How did you even get into this situation?” he asked. 

“Um. It’s kind of embarrassing,” Crowley admitted.

“I, uh, got stuck in this form. Forgot how to turn back,” he confessed ashamedly. 

“But my dear boy, how did you even turn into a snake in the first place? I know you haven’t taken that form willingly in thousands of years.”

Crowley looked down. 

“Hastur thought it would be funny if he forced out my serpent form. Thinks I’ve gone too native,” he said quietly. 

The angel clasped a hand over his mouth in shock. 

“Crowley, how long have you been stuck like this?” he asked gently.

“Three days,” Crowley whispered weakly. 

“Three days?!” Aziraphale exclaimed in horror.

“You had a telephone installed, dear, why didn’t you phone me?” 

“You think I can bloody operate a telephone like this?!” Crowley sputtered, droplets of blood leaking out of his mouth.

Aziraphale sighed. 

“Crowley, my dear, you’re hurting yourself,” he told him anxiously, stroking his cracked scales. 

“At least give me credit for keeping track of time and not missing our meeting,” Crowley grumbled.  
“Dear, I don’t care about our meeting. With this...damn..war, it’s not like it’ll be any different. You know how it goes, keep that Austrian maniac and his goose-steppers from winning.”

“Ha. There’s something about a goose being a bad omen,” Crowley said dryly. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed, looking at Crowley in his mangled state. 

“I’m knackered, angel. Can you take me to your stove so I can sleep?” the demon asked. 

“Of course, darling. Once you’re healed, I’ll help you regain your human form,” Aziraphale promised.

**Author's Note:**

> *My headcanon for (book) Crowley's snake form is the Scarlet Kingsnake, which is known for its Batesian mimicry of the venomous Coral Snake. Another aspect of its Batesian mimicry is that when stressed, it also rattles its tail to mimic a rattlesnake, even though it doesn't have a rattle.


End file.
